


Speech Is Silver, Action Is Gold

by Sparcina



Series: Iron Webs to Covet [19]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Banter, Enthusiastic Consent, F/F, First Time Together, Fluff and Smut, IN SPACE!, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Manhandling, Oral Sex, Other, Peter finds Tony's grey hair hot, Rimming, Trapped in a spaceship together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:07:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28083660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sparcina/pseuds/Sparcina
Summary: “Looking older is… good?” Tony asked, cautiously incredulous.Peter shifted, but didn’t look away. “Yeah.”“And that’s because-”“Well… If you’re older, it means I am, too. And hopefully…”Tony’s mouth went dry. “Pete-”“I’d just like to say this once, and afterwards we can pretend this conversation never happened.”In which Peter, Tony, and their fellow crewmates come to some important realizations while their spaceship is adrift in the Andromeda Galaxy.
Relationships: Groot & Rocket Raccoon, Nebula/Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Thor/Venom Symbiote
Series: Iron Webs to Covet [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/779883
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106
Collections: Writing Rainbow Silver





	Speech Is Silver, Action Is Gold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LearnedFoot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LearnedFoot/gifts).



> Happy Silver (Fox) Day, LF!
> 
> PS: this fic is part of an exchange and has been re-dated for author reveals.

Natasha wasn't sure what Stark was waiting for. The UST in the air was thick enough to choke on, and breathable air was a luxury in space. But she wasn’t concerned. Half the crew was technology-savvy, with or without a diploma to show for it.

She was bored, which was worse. There was no immediate threat to contain, no quest to start, and no problem to solve beyond the obvious one: Stark. As long as Natasha had known the man, and she'd known him for many years, Stark had been a constant thorn in her side. He lived for the thrill, and while he'd grown more selfless and self-aware with time, he was still incredibly clueless at times. His amicable breakup with Virginia had helped, and the grey hair that now showed at his temples reflected his newfound maturity. Not that she was ever going to feed the man’s oversized ego for free. Besides, some days, watching Stark agonize over a very simple choice was all the entertainment she had.

Her only issue with Stark's dithering was how it affected Peter. The youngest Avenger had a crush the size of the moon on Stark. It was painfully obvious to anyone with functioning eyes, and so were Stark's efforts to deny himself (to the trained eye, anyway).

Nebula sank into the copilot seat. Natasha looked away from the red dwarf slowly dying in the distance and reached for Nebula’s thigh, pressing her thumb just below the joint slightly misaligned there to massage the tension away. Her lover’s dark eyes cleared a little.

"My blades need to be anointed in enemy blood, or they will rust. Perhaps I should invite Stark to spare again?”

"Someone wouldn’t be happy if you damaged him too much," Natasha replied lightly.

"Time is being lost right now," Nebula agreed.

"Oh, trust me, time has been lost for years."

Nebula unsheathed her favorite blade. "I am surrounded by idiots.” Her eyes shone as she leaned into Natasha, blade fitting beautifully in the careful space between their chests. “It’s a good thing you're here."

Natasha’s hand brushed the edge of the blade. "Helping take the tension away?" she quipped, and shot to her feet to straddle Nebula.

As millions of light-years away, a red dwarf was already dead, two assassins shared a heated kiss.

*

**_“I think this is what humans call ‘playing with fire’.”_ **

_“It is a good thing that I’m… ah, not human, then.”_

**_“Yes. You’re much more durable.”_ **

_“Still. My point stands,”_ Thor thought at his bonded, tongue darting out to lick at his bottom lip. _“I doubt not the pleasure we can share, but this is hardly the right place to-”_

Venom thickened around his cock and throbbed in response to a series of small electric shocks, the kind that Thor set free unconsciously in the throes of pleasure.

“Hey! No porno on my ship!” A tiny voice protested from the walkway. 

_“Stop!”_ Thor called out to Venom. 

**_“I do love it when you beg.”_ **

Thor threw his head back with a gasp, knocking the back of his skull against the wall as his bonded shot a slick tentacle past his sack. “Rabbit!” He exclaimed, patting frantically at the bulge in his pants to get Venom to settle, and accomplishing the exact opposite.

The newcomer made a gagging noise and covered its muzzle with one paw, the other paw clenched tightly around an impressively large laser gun.

 ** _“We shall kill this mammal.”_** Venom hissed, indignant.

 _“We shall not.”_ With an apologetic smile towards the rabbit, Thor added: “Please excuse my bonded’s enthusiasm for the ways of the flesh.”

A vaguely strangled noise filtered from behind Rocket’s fury paw before he dropped it at his side. "Look, man, just keep it on your pants...”

Thor was about to point out that his current activities were confined to his pants already, but then he remembered what the expression actually meant. As he began to stand, a moan of pleasure reached his ears. Another quickly followed.

 ** _“That is unfair_** , Venom hissed.

Thor sort of agreed. “What about them?” he inquired.

“Them who?”

“The ones having sex in the piloting room… the… bridge.”

“No!” This time, the shock registering on Rocket’s face conveyed smug satisfaction. “Don’t tell me they’ve finally gotten their heads out of their asses?!”

Thor was puzzled. “Why would anyone do such a thing?”

“It’s one of those human expressions again, Thor. Means they figured out what they meant for each other.”

“Oh!” Thor grinned. “Stark has finally confessed his undying lust and love to the man of spiders?”

“Er, maybe?”

**_“I believe the mammal is confused as to who is having fun on the bridge.”_ **

Thor’s satisfaction dimmed back to hope. “That is not who is expressing their boundless pleasure on the bridge right now.” At Rocket’s non-plussed expression, he added: “That would be the Ladies Nebula and Nat...”

Rocket was gone before Thor could finish. In the opposite direction to where the noises were coming from.

 ** _“Where were we?”_** Venom crooned.

Thor decided that after all, it didn’t matter who was gifting each other’s orgasms right now. Besides, surely the ladies’ and his and Venom’s own efforts to fill the ship with sexual energy would help the man of iron along?

_**"That's the spirit."** _

*

Tony had felt old for a while, but now he looked the part, too.

With a scowl, he turned away from the cracked mirror. Sure, he’d aged well. _That_ wasn’t the problem. He’d made peace with his scars and softening belly, even with the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes, and he’d been so sure that he wouldn’t mind the grey hair. That he would enjoy the distinguished vibe. 

Well, that was before he’d decided to give in. To stop pretending that he didn’t see the heat in Peter’s eyes whenever the kid looked at him. To finally confess that yes, he wanted Peter as much as he himself seemed to be wanted. He’d spent many uncomfortable nights staring up at the ceiling, fantasizing about joining Peter in his bed and snuggling with him all night, or fuck him _good_ with his tongue and fingers and cock until the kid was a blissed-out _mess._ He’d started wondering a long time ago (too long) how those heightened senses applied to sex, if the kid was so sensitive he could come from a sure hand fondling him through his pants and a stream of very genuine praise.

‘Kid’ wasn’t an accurate moniker anymore, of course. But it had helped during all those years Tony had spent denying his own feelings. At the very beginning, it had been oh so obvious that Peter had meant to cater himself to Tony’s tastes.

Obvious, and wrong.

Hot, and worst.

But that was years ago. Peter had grown into his own person sincere. He was still shy, still looked up to Tony a little too much, but he wasn’t afraid to hold his grounding. He lived in his own apartment, led his own life at college, but the way he looked at Tony hadn’t changed at all.

And now that Tony was willing to take the kid up on his silent offer, for example by courting the hell out of him before doing all of those very naughty things he dreamed of at night, the grey hair had shown up. Just a few lines lining his temples, and a few in his neatly trimmed pubic hair, but every time he scrutinized his face in a mirror, he was reminded of his age.

He was getting older. Too old for Peter.

Not that Peter seemed to care. And Natasha kept giving Tony that irritated expression, a slight pinch between her brows as she glanced between the two of them. She didn’t need actual words for Tony to get the message ‘make a move already’.

The soft knock on the door jolted him out of his thoughts.

“It’s open,” he called out, desperate for a distraction.

Peter came in. Tony’s heart missed a beat. The kid’s hair was a mess, and he had machine grease smeared on his right cheek. The pants he wore were wrinkled and stained with more grease at the knees.

God, but the kid was beautiful. He would be mouth-watering in a bespoke suit, but Tony wanted him just as much like this, shuffling his feet and worrying at his bottom lip in a clear display of nerves.

Tony hoped that whatever weighed on Peter’s mind, it was nothing too serious.

“Hey, Pete. Got tired of tinkering with the main systems? Even Friday needed a break from the not-so-user-friendly interface. ”

“Actually, I tried something new after bouncing ideas off Rocket, but the reboot, if it happens, takes a few hours. I was, er... playing chess against the computer.”

Tony fought back a smile. “And did you win yet against HAL?”

“I’m no Beth Harmon, so no.” Peter took a step in, raking a hand through his hair, an awkward smile flashing on his lips. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

They sat on the bed together, only in part because there was no other space available beside the floor. And Peter, with the kind of courage that tugged at Tony's heartstrings every single time, didn’t beat around the bush.

“The grey bothers you?”

Tony blinked, not having expected _that_ question. Had he been playing with the hair at his temples again? Biting back a scoff, he dropped his hand in his lap and shrugged. “What if I am?” he asked lightly.

In a move that was distinctly forward and quite unlike the him, Peter leaned into Tony, his left hand sliding on the scratchy sheets until his little finger bumped into Tony’s pinkie. A jolt of electricity traveled up Tony’s arm, warmth spreading further in delicious aftershocks until his skin seemed to vibrate. His face felt on fire, for Chris’s sake. Had it really been that long since he’d last been laid that the mere touch of someone he wanted turned him into a live wire?

No, that wasn’t about lust. Not entirely.

He took a deep breath, about to put his foot in his mouth, no doubt, but Peter beat him to it.

“I like the grey.” The words were barely above a whisper. “It suits you.”

“You’re so funny.”

“I’m serious, Tony. You look… good.” Here he was, biting his lower lip again. Temptation itself.

And then the words themselves registered.

“Looking older is… good?” he asked, cautiously incredulous.

Peter shifted, but didn’t look away. “Yeah.”

“And that’s because-”

“Well…” Peter’s throat bobbed. “If you’re older, it means I am, too. And hopefully…”

Tony’s mouth went dry. “Pete-”

“I’d just like to say this once, and afterwards we can pretend this conversation never happened.”

Tony couldn’t remember the last time someone had pressed their hand to his mouth to prevent him from talking. Surely many, many people had wanted to, but only a handful had actually dared.

And now Peter was part of this very select group. Peter, who had his hand clamped down over Tony’s mouth, the palm so soft and just a little clammy.

The urge to slick it up with own saliva, to make it really wet, struck Tony so hard he missed the first few words.

“… before, but I really like you. I mean, I’ve liked you since I met you at the Stark Expo… Yeah, I know that was like, hero worship back then, I was an actual _kid_ , and then I got all those posters of you in my teens and I would- I guess you could say that I developed a big crush on you around that time, and meeting you at fifteen only confirmed-” Peter caught his breath for about half a second, cheeks deliciously pink as he forged ahead. “It’s coming out all wrong. What I mean to say is…” His hand shifted on Tony’s mouth. “The admiration never went away. And I’ve never stopped respecting you, even if you’re an idiot sometimes. Because we all make mistakes. But I'd follow you to hell and back, Tony. That hasn't changed, and I definitely still want you.” Heat entered his voice. “I’ve wanted you for years, and…” He drew in a ragged breath, cheeks darkening further. “The grey hair hasn’t changed that at all. It’s… Tony, it’s _hot._ I can’t explain it, but it makes me… God, I’m so embarrassed.”

Tony didn’t dare move a muscle. Peter’s hand trembled against his lips, and Tony just wanted to kiss the palm, worship every part of that hand, every single inch of that wonderful, wonderful young man.

He stayed quiet.

Peter’s expression became heart-wrenchingly earnest. “I love you.”

He didn’t stutter, didn’t hesitate or falter. As the meaning of those three words registered, Tony felt like every atom of air had been sucked straight from his chest. He tried to talk, but the pressure on his mouth increased, just a little, and that assertive behavior shot straight to Tony’s dick.

“Please let me finish, I’m almost- Oh, _God_ , Tony-”

Tony kissed Peter’s palm again, and when the kid dropped his hand at last, he moved in for the prize, chasing that tempting mouth with his own, crawling into Peter’s lap with all the predatory grace he feared was lost alongside his youth. The delicate kiss they traded didn’t even last a second, could barely be called a kiss at all, but it earned Tony a pained moan of mixed feelings, mostly delight, surprise, and frustration.

Tony was quite familiar with that particular blend of emotions.

“I have noticed, Pete. Every single time. And I thought… Fuck, I just… I thought I should leave you the chance to be with someone better. Someone closer to your own age.”

“But that’s not-”

“Wait, it’s my turn,” Tony interrupted him, and then brushed the corner of Peter’s mouth with his lips, taking the sting out of the words. “The thing is, I’d give you the world, Pete, and if what you want is me, well… I’d figured you’re old enough by now to be sure. You’re a fine globetrotter by now.”

Peter pulled back just enough to reveal a mischievous smile, the kind that never failed to make Tony hard. “So that’s how we call _that_ these days.”

“In this quadrant anyway.”

Peter’s lips twitched. “Are you jealous I didn’t keep my virginity for you, _Sir_?”

And that was how Tony ended up slamming Peter against the nearest wall and having his wicked way with him. Peter kept saying that he didn’t mind a little manhandling, that he _needed_ to feel _it_ , and who was Tony to refuse the one person for whom he’d start wars and invent time-travel?

“’m sorry it took me so long,” he confessed, trailing open-mouthed kisses down Peter’s spine as the kid arched against the wall, those cute nipples Tony had sucked on earlier no doubt rubbing deliciously against the cold metal. “But there’s no more waiting. Not when you’re… Jesus, Pete, I can’t believe I resisted so long.”

“I’m quite… impressed myself.”

“I thought you were, and I quote, ‘really frustrated’,” Tony teased, planting a kiss on each ass cheek.

“Well… That, too.”

With a low chuckle, Tony let go of that sinfully trim waist to massage Peter’s buttocks, kneading the firm globes until Peter was seeking friction against the wall, and wasn’t that a heady feeling, to drive Peter out of his mind like this? Tony wanted to dive straight for that pink hole peeking out from between those perfect asscheeks, feast on that rim until his lips went numb and Peter painted the wall white.

“Fair warning…” He almost stopped right there, pretty sure this was another foot-in-the-mouth moment, but he loved Peter. Too much not to expose himself. “I’m not the best at relationships. That’s an established fact. That being said... I want this, you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, and I’ve lived more than half a century. I love you, Pete. So fucking much.”

“And I love you, my grey fox.”

The tone was playful towards the end, layered with affection. The knot in Tony’s gut loosened. 

“And what does that make you, exactly?”

“Your good little boy?”

Tony was balls deep inside Peter, praising the kid in between grunts of ecstasy, when he remembered that they weren’t alone on this ship. His next thought was that he couldn't be bothered to keep quiet. Of course, there was no way in hell he’d ask _Peter_ to be, not unless the kid wanted to be fucked face-first into the mattress... and Tony had sort of hoped, in a moment of naïve romanticism, that their first time would be about making love to Peter.

So far, so good: he had Peter writhing under him, that pretty face flushed, those all-too-kissable lips parted on an almost constant stream of _please_ and _Tony_. They were making love on a one-person bed in a spaceship adrift in the most dangerous sector of the Andromeda Galaxy, and Tony had never been so fucking happy. He gave Peter a first orgasm, and then another, hypnotized by the sight offered to him, and him alone.

It took some negotiations - and a little manhandling on Peter’s part, which was hot as hell - for Tony to agree to lie on his back and let the kid blow him to completion, but there was a reason Pepper handled the business side of SI.

“I’ll think of New York,” he promised with as much dramatics he could muster, which required some effort in his aroused state.

Peter narrowed his eyes at him. “I sure hope not, or I’m not doing it right." That was all he said before he bent low to suck on the head of Tony's cock with gusto, the pressure just right, the wet heat of his mouth downright exquisite.

Tony tossed his head back with a grunt. “Jesus, your _mouth_.”

That mouth was heaven. And so were those hands, caressing his sack and then venturing further back, that single digit caressing his taint back and forth, back and forth, Tony’s orgasm building so fast there was almost no time to warn Peter off. “Sweetheart, I’m going to-”

“Come down my throat,” Peter pulled back long enough to rasp. “I want it. Please.”

“Fuck.”

Peter went back to work as if he needed Tony’s come down his throat right now, and that much dedication, well… Tony couldn’t let his lover hanging, now, could he?

It was a while before Peter spoke again. Tony was drifting off when soft lips brushed the shell of his ear.

“Fun fact: almost all the crew had sex today.”

Tony blinked at the wall. “That’s… interesting?” He almost asked who hadn’t gotten lucky, but remembering Thor’s flush this morning, he was pretty sure of his guess. And he didn’t want to think about furry aliens any more than necessary. Not with Peter spooning him, anyway.

“Yeah, I don’t know I feel about that either.” Peter sighed. “I could hear _everything_ , and I can’t… get it out of my head now, because some of them are still at it.”

Tony rolled around in Peter’s arms. “Lie your head on my chest and listen to my heart for a while." He thought for a moment. He may be too old to go again just now, but surely Peter... "And if that doesn’t work, you can always sit on my face for a while.”

Peter exhaled sharply. “I think it would help if _you_ were the one sitting on my face.”

*

Peter eating him out for half an hour and then getting sucked through three orgasms put him to sleep, so Tony counted it as a win.

*

Rocket sat on his bunk with Nebula on the opposite bed, and Groot on the floor nearby. His friend was picking at its bark, obviously unconcerned by all the sex vibes on board. Thankfully, Nebula was here too, which meant that at least the very hot sex was over, and Rocket was done being tempted.

That being said, the young Terran was kind of hot, and so was the old one, even with the wrinkles and the grey hair… But really, Rocket preferred the ladies. Especially when they were so good with guns.

“I am Groot. I _am Groot_.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, and picked up a new weapon to polish.

Nebula was doing the same, but with her arm. Stark had done something to the elbow that must please her very much indeed, because she wasn’t complaining about all the sex noises. Of course, her relatively good mood could be explained by the super-hot sex she’d just had herself with the red-hair.

Rocket rubbed at the gun muzzle with ferocious intent. “This is it. I’m not traveling with any of those humans anymore.”

“Thor is a God, and Venom is a symbiote,” Gamora pointed out, sliding the panel back over the exposed circuitry in her forearm.

“I am Groot.”

“I know I said that. But I’m not going to… watch them.”

“The two males?” Gamora asked with interest.

“No.” realizing what he’d just implied, he hurried to add: “I’d never _dare_ …”

“Good idea, because either one of us could crush your tiny throat in less than three seconds,” Gamora finished for him candidly, and wasn’t that exactly the kind of promise Rocket wished for in the dead of night.

Of course, 'night' was relative around here.

His computer watch beeped.

“Looks like the main systems are back online.” He grinned. “Think we should wait for those two to… finish? I mean, that young man did fix the ship.”

“I am Groot.”

Rocket snorted. “Get your mind out of the gutter. You know what I mean.”

_The end._

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: the Andromeda Galaxy was originally known as the Andromeda Nebula.


End file.
